Retrospect
by kyrilu
Summary: He never knew how much Kid mattered until that night.  KaiShin/KaiCon.  Two-shot.


Retrospect.

Song: Waiting for the End by Linkin Park

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Chapter 1: What Could Have Been.

_This is not the end  
This is not the beginning  
Just a voice like a riot  
Rocking every revision  
But you listen to the tone  
And the violent rhythm  
Though the words sound steady  
Something empties within 'em_

It would be a lie to say that he has been on solid ground the entire time. That he was rooted on a strong foundation of rock and earth from the first day; that he was nailed firmly down on an unmovable surface since his first breath…

Each and every one of words he said was a lie. False statements, intentionally inaccurate testimonies...whatever they were, they were but broken bricks painted over with the newest, shiniest of paints, coated over with the most colorful of wallpaper.

A dilapidated house, a crumbling bridge. Nothing more, nothing less.

But still he uttered each and every lies with a smooth, silver tongue. But still he continued constructing the flimsy house with that outer interior which told nothing about his true self.

All he could do was to keep up the illusion of perfection. At least until the house finally collapsed.

He knew the house would one day fall while he was inside. But that didn't matter.

After all, he was the single architect and construction worker, and he knew there was no one there to build everything right back up.

And that was what how he wanted it.

_We say yeah_

Three Years Ago

Three years ago, the nights of the full moon were vivid and wild. Hours streaked past, minutes cantered across the hands of a clock, and seconds rushed by in a mere blur. He could almost believe _that_ hadn't happened. For it was effortless to lose himself in the thrill of the chase, to forget the danger which loomed over him in a haunting shadow. Something inside of him craved for this exhilarating 'peace'.

The breeze that night tasted cool on the tip of his tongue, and each inhale seemed to intake the stirring excitement in the air. Gusts of wind played across the dark-haired boy's face, brushing to part jet black bangs.

Sapphire eyes were revealed in the night, pupils dancing in anticipation. Ocean orbs bounced in their sockets side to side like a darting ping pong ball, unable to still their frantic pace. As bright and clear as ever, they shimmered behind large glasses like two distant stars.

The boy muffled an exasperated sigh, glanced at his watch, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Impatience bit and nipped at his skin, plucking at the prickling hairs on the back of his neck.

There still was time. He raised his head high and squinted, peering at the sky.

Silently, the moon wavered in its place, shyly ducking between cottoned clouds. The few stars hazily visible refused to outshine wisps of polluted fog.

The boy closed his eyes tightly. He squeezed them once, twice, and felt a memory flickering on the flashing black-and-white lids.

He thought he could feel an azure comet raining down on him, painting white streaks across the pale sky.

_With fists flying up in the air  
Like we're holding onto something that's invisible there  
Cuz we're living at the mercy of the pain and the fear  
Until we dead it, forget it  
Let it all disappear_

_Tssh._

Edogawa Conan opened his eyes at the soft sound. He recognized the noise - the brush of fabric and a flap of a billowing cape, so familiar and recognizable. It made him a little sad, then, for although he had heard it countless times, he had yet to listen while inhabiting his real body.

"You waited." The statement rang from the newcomer's almost unmoving lips, dropping into a whisper. Hushed, lithe footsteps perched on tiptoes on the rooftop.

"I did," he acknowledged. He tipped his head in a noncommittal gesture, casting his eyes downwards at his own shadow.

"The riddle – you solved it, then?"

A sarcastic scoff. "No, of course not, I made an educated guess." It earned him a wry chuckle in response, and he continued humorously, "_Of course_ I solved it, Kaitou-san."

Conan let out a stale gust of air he hadn't realize he was holding. "Kid, why are we here?"

Kaitou Kid turned to face him slowly, a wide grin stretching over his face. The lopsided smile seemed to reach an eye covered with a glass monocle. "You can say…well, because I know."

As if stung, Conan flinched. "What-what are you talking about?"

"Can you tell me, then?" Inquisitive eyes tilted his way, waiting for an answer. "…please?" the magician added quickly.

The boy stiffened, but met the other's gaze with a resolute glare. "I can't tell you anything because there's nothing to say."

"People say dead men tell no tales." That last remark increased the detective's scowl as he glowered at the smirking thief. "Perhaps they're right."

In response, the detective's jaw clenched shut, gritting and grinding teeth together. "I'm not dead," he growled, clenching his fists until the knuckles turned white. "I'm not dead." And then he sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. His voice suddenly sounded very weary and tired as he whispered, "I'm _not_ dead."

_Waiting for the end to come  
Wishing I had strength to stand  
This is not what I had planned  
It's out of my control_

"And so you say, tantei-kun. And so you say." The mockery in the man's voice was not apparent anymore, replaced by a solemn attitude. Conan felt the words emblazed into his mind - those quiet, quiet words engraved into his burning memories.

"Damn you," Conan hissed, even though he knew he was defeated. There was no malice, no more arguments he could offer, for the thief had won. Kid always won. He always took what he wanted, and what he received now was the truth that Kudou Shinichi had fought to desperately hide.

Kaitou Kid was right, after all. Kudou Shinichi was dead, and would never live again. He would never pick up and continue his previous life like nothing happened. Something did happen, and there was no denying it.

"There…that's the truth. The one truth," the boy whispered to himself bitterly. "There's no turning around; there's no going back." And he looked so lonely, just standing there – windy hair drooping over his face, clenched fists slackening, blue eyes so empty, so full of defeat.

"I'm…sorry."

It only a whisper, and for a second, Conan thought he only imagined the brief words. "…Kid?" he muttered back. "Whatever for?"

The thief's smile was sad, yet enigmatic at the same time. "For everything," he said simply.

(My name is Edogawa Conan. I used to be high-school student Kudou Shinichi. I enjoyed reading mystery books, especially Sherlock Holmes, and playing soccer. I was in love with Mouri Ran. I was a detective.

I still am a detective, but not Kudou Shinichi. Once I became who I am now, I let everything go.)

_Flying at the speed of light  
Thoughts were spinning in my head  
So many things were left unsaid  
It's hard to let you go_

Kid silently approached the detective, violet eyes soft and quiet. Slow footsteps shuffled inaudibly. He paused when he was two steps away, as if uncertain. Following an afterthought, the magician continued forwards, kneeling down to meet the other face to face. "Tantei-kun…"

The nickname left the thief's lips with such fondness. Almost tender, almost...

They were so close, then, their faces almost touching. Kid's deep plum-colored eyes – serous for once - spoke of such depths below the surface. Conan couldn't help gazing at them, trapped and fascinated by their intensity.

No. No. _No._ Conan fought back the pull, struggling. A wave of yearning washed over him, thrusting his body underwater. The tide dragged him, but he didn't want to give in.

He was afraid…and yet he wasn't.

_I know what it takes to move on  
I know how it feels to lie  
All I wanna do is trade this life for something new  
Holding on to what I haven't got_

The thief's exhale of air was warm, ghosting over his face like a gentle breeze. Sapphire eyes slid shut, and he sighed. Conan's breath caressed the magician's face, whose eyes were distant and dreamy.

"Do you want me to stay?" Kid whispered gently, a white gloved hand reaching out to muss the boy's dark hair. The fingers lingered on the black curls for a moment too long, before prying away and retreating to the thief's side.

It was then Conan realized how much he needed Kid – the attention, the chase, the smiles, the laughter, the warmth…

He remembered heists, cool nights bathed in moonlight. The moon, shining full and bright, so delicate and fragile at the same time. And Kid, who was everything, who was the world, dappled in blue-grey rays, darting in the shadows, soaring in the sky, dancing on the rooftops…

Yet still, he was afraid to drown, to let those battling emotions to tug him under the sea.

"No," Conan rasped hoarsely, his voice indistinct. "Just…go."

The detective refused to meet the thief's eyes. He didn't want to see the hurt, the loss, the brokenness, displayed in those violet, violet eyes. The pain he had caused – he didn't want to watch.

There was a rustle, a murmur, and then, Kaitou Kid was gone.

And he never saw him again.

The Present

_Sitting in an empty room  
Trying to forget the past  
This was never meant to last  
I wish it wasn't so_

Edogawa Conan had snapped, but it wasn't the first time. There were many times he knew he couldn't take it anymore. But he had buried the gnawing feeling that was digging into the deep lurches of his heart, covering it with useless thoughts. He'd been keeping track, but of course, eventually stopped counting.

He was so damn tired. It had been the same long ago, as it was now.

With a mumble, he buried his face into his hands, closing his blue eyes that some had grown to fear. They contained too much wisdom and insight for a boy of supposedly twelve years to shoulder, to even comprehend.

Conan lifted his face a fraction of an inch, cradling his head on top of folded arms resting on the table. A restless hand reached out to trace the rim of a glass of water, circling around and around and around…

The boy's fingers paused, and his expression paled. After a careful look, however, he relaxed, his heart still beating in his chest.

He'd thought he had seen blue-violet eyes glinting in the glass's reflection, incandescent and luminous like the sun and the moon. Yet he was wrong, for they were only his own, darkening a plum shade in the tinted light.

But maybe that wasn't the only reason he had been confused. Perhaps it was because he had finally realized that the orbs contained the same weariness that Kaitou Kid's own eyes once had…

_I know what it takes to move on  
I know how it feels to lie  
All I wanna do is trade this life for something new  
Holding on to what I haven't got_

Oh.

Kid, Kaitou Kid – the brilliant thief of the night, the magician of the moonlight…Conan had been trying to forget him, yet as clear as ever, as bright as day, memories flood into him. To put it simply in cliché-filled terms, it felt as if it was only yesterday.

Maybe…maybe it was best if he had stopped struggling. But that was so long ago, and…it was a mistake.

_"Do you want me to stay?" _Kid had said.

And he had said no.

With a sigh, Conan tangled messy curls with his pale fingers, tugging them roughly. His scalp protested, prickling with pain, but he ignored it.

_What was left when that fire was gone  
I thought it felt right but that right was wrong  
All caught up in the eye of the storm  
And trying to figure out what it's like moving on_

_And I don't even know what kind of things I said  
My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead  
Picking up those pieces now where to begin  
The hardest part of ending is starting again_

A bittersweet smile curled on the corners of Conan's lips.

For when he stared out the window, he imagined Kid's well-remembered eyes gaze back at him, and a gloved hand slip into his.

But then the moment broke into scattered fragments as the image disappeared. Conan brought the glass of water to his mouth, and drank to his unattainable wishes of what could have been.

_All I wanna do is trade this life for something new  
Holding on to what I haven't got…_

**_/_**


End file.
